


The Grave Of A Bird

by duh_i_read (duh_i_write)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Canon, Community: still_grrr, F/M, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-01
Updated: 2010-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-06 22:26:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duh_i_write/pseuds/duh_i_read
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What has become of it,where/is that/onetime love?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Grave Of A Bird

**Author's Note:**

> Title and quote from Pablo Neruda. Post 'Lie to Me".

_"And what has become of it, where  
is that  
onetime love?  
Now it is  
the grave of a bird, a drop  
of black quartz,  
a chunk  
of wood eroded by the rain"  
Pablo Neruda, "Loves: Terusa (I)"_

\---  
There were many ways for this to end, and Drusilla dreamed them all. Some had running, or hiding, or dancing around the mulberry bush. One ended in hell and one in heaven. On in sorrow and two in joy. All of them had her adrift, her lover scorched in sunshine.

She would cut those visions off at the pass. She would strike before the moon could cry. So the night he buried his sickly puppy, she waited, until the sun was at its zenith, her darling still with sleep.

The chains looked pretty around his slender wrists, like dancers in sliver. Kneeling over his legs, she caressed the notch of his hip and the not so smooth skin around his manhood. He needed a shave, but there was simply no time.

He was already lost to the Slayer. She knew how this would end.

The smile as he tugged on the chains melted away as he opened his eyes to her.

"Dru…" he warned, rattling the chains so the bed shook.

"Hush. Mummy is very cross with you. The pixie has shown me many things, many horrible things about you and the Slayer."

"Is this about her not being dead? Dru, I promise you the streets will flow with her blood."

"Pretty lies," she snapped. "All you do is dance with her. That is why this ends before the orchestra warms up." The stake in her right hand was pressed to his heart now.

Even in her weakened state, she held his struggling body down easy. Over his frantic pleading, she whispered, "I already fear the music has started and no one will ask me to dance."

With a kiss to his cheek and the brush of one black tipped fingernail over his sire scar, she said, "Goodbye my sweet Spike. In my heart, there shall never be another like you."

She pushed the stake harder and he fell to ash with her name on his lips.

Hours later, she emerged from the bedroom dressed all in black. She snapped impossible orders to the minions and beckoned Dalton forth.

"Yes-s mistress?"

"Prepare the car, pick the cleverest minions and leave the rest. You shall wait for me at the park at the edge of town. We leave at midnight."

Dalton hurried away like a good little minion. Drusilla slipped one of the dragging chains over her shoulder. Still so weak, but all starlight shines on Daddy: he will help her become strong.


End file.
